Here he must make his final decision. He stood with one foot on the bridge
and one hand on the railing and pondered. Should he go on, or should he go
back and face his father? He knew the taunts he would receive even if he
were not beaten; but he would bear all that if it was his duty. Then there
came to his mind the picture of his father that day he had come home after
his drunken spree and found the boys trying to start the engine. At the
thought his loathing of his father overcame him, and he turned and walked
across the bridge. Never would he go back to live in the same house with
that drunken fellow. If Henry Hill had realized the effect his life was
having on his children even he would have considered.



CHAPTER 8

WAYSIDE FRIENDS

Now that Austin had cut his last shore-line, had crossed the bridge away
from home, he began to plan for himself. It was now past noon, and he was
both hungry and cold. When he thought of his penniless condition a chill of
apprehension came over him, for he had no mind to beg. He continued his
search for work on this side the river, but with as little success. Though
he could hardly have told why, he had kept on toward the railroad, and was
approaching it where a small station stood. He had no money with which to
buy a ticket, yet he hoped that in some way he might be able to follow the
road to where he could find work.

When he reached the station he found no depot and only a few houses; a box
car had been set beside the track and in it was a tiny waiting-room with a
fire burning. A couple of men sat idly by smoking and talking, scarcely